


Altitude

by RationsandSpades



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Catra has BPD, Catra has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (She-Ra), Catra is still a polyglot, Childhood Friends, F/F, Flashbacks, It gets heavy later on, Minor Original Character(s), Smut, This Is Sad, very sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29425515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RationsandSpades/pseuds/RationsandSpades
Summary: Catra wants to feel something again. It's been a month since she opened the portal, a week since Scorpia abandoned her. A week since she's been completely and utterly alone. Catra will do anything to make herself feel better. Desperate to be loved again, desperate to feel, she does whatever she can to cope.Takes place after the portal incident in Season 4.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. But a Little Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for all the love on my other fics! I really appreciate it! This'll be the first smut fic I post here. It's going to be a multi-chapter fic this time because I want to actually try something new for once.

Another day, another person.

They scrambled to reach the door in time. Catra’s fingers were gentle and controlled as she typed in the password with ease. It was the other woman that was needy, that was impatient. Even in the hallway, she was clinging to her side, peppering her neck with soft kisses. Her breathing was already fast.

“I can’t wait to get my hands on you,” the woman said.

“Moons…” Catra said, a low growl. She finally unlocked the door, shoved the woman in, and locked it behind them.

She nearly launched herself at the other woman, shoving her against the bed, pressing her against her chest. Their lips clashed and Catra wasted no time making mincemeat of her lips as she bit down and pawed hungrily at the woman’s chest and her sides.

Hands, needy, clinging to shirts desperately, dug into fabric with the desperation of a man drowning in the sea.

“Catra,” she said.

She didn’t respond, letting her lips talk for her. She bit down on tonight’s lover’s neck hard. The other woman’s breath hitched, shaking, breathy, a long sigh.

“Catra,” she said again.

_ Could she shut up? _

“Catra. Take this off,” she said. She scrambled and fumbled with Catra’s zipper. Her hands brushed against Catra’s fur and-

Her skin, too smooth to be Adora’s. Too smooth, her shirt too tight against her body. Adora would never be seen in a shirt that fucking tight.

Catra leaned back. She glanced over at the door to the hall, making sure that the door was closed and that it was properly locked. Satisfied, she looked at Not Adora and wordlessly unzipped the bodysuit. It crumpled in a heap at her hips and she lunged forward to catch the woman in another hard kiss. All teeth, desperate and with hurricane force.

Luckily, she didn’t talk for a little bit, only balling her fists in her hair when Catra trailed kisses down her body, across her chest. Catra looked up at her and met the other woman’s eyes.

Blue. Not quite that same baby blue as Adora’s, but pretty close.

_ Close enough. _

She kept eye contact as she ran her nails down the woman’s body. This woman she never bothered to learn the name of. She should know her name, being the second-in-command of the Horde and all. It didn’t matter, nothing mattered.

Her eyes screwed shut as Catra’s nails dug into smooth and soft flesh and she bit down on her shoulder. She straddled her, pulling her close.

_ “It’s okay. You can do this,” Adora said, eyes so soft as Catra looked over at her. _

_ She gave her a small smile she hoped was kind and loving, some way to tell her she loved her. _

_ She looked back at the paper and pointed to the kingdoms’ names scribbled out on the paper. _

_ She could read it, of course, it was Adora’s handwriting after all. Still, she feigned ignorance. _

_ “Moons, Adora, you’re illiterate,” she said with a chuckle. _

_ A scoff and Catra felt her shake the bunk with a small laugh. _

_ “Kingdom of Plumeria. Ruled by…” she squinted and leaned closer, “...Princess...P...Per” _

“Persephone,” Catra growled.

That was her name.

How pretty.

Persephone gasped and shook as Catra’s fingers went to work. Catra had her claws sheathed so that she wouldn’t hurt her.

“Catra…”

Catra hummed and gave her lover’s neck a soft lick with her hooked tongue. She could feel her shake under the pads of her fingers and her mouth. She wanted to leave marks, wanted to tear her apart. She was holding onto her desperately, fingers digging into Catra’s shoulders and back. She had her face buried in the crook of Catra’s neck and was panting.

Faster, faster, faster.

“Catra!”

It almost sounded like her. How Catra imagined she’d sound if she ever made her call her name like that. It was always strangled grunts back when they were going solo. Catra would listen in, wondering what she was thinking of, who she was thinking of.

What was getting her off?

Was it her?

It would never be her.

She bit down on Persephone’s neck and shook her head, allowing her teeth to dig into the soft skin. She imagined she was biting into Adora’s. Was she trying to kill her? Hurt her?

“Fuck-”

Strangled gasping, shaking, twitching.

Whimpering.

Stillness.

“Fuck…” the woman said.

Catra released her grip on the woman and leaned back to look over her. If she imagined hard enough, she could almost imagine the short-haired woman to be Adora with a haircut. The woman’s hair was mussed, sky eyes cloudy, glazed over but looking at her still. She was catching her breath.

She put back on her bodysuit with a loud zip and looked at the residue coating her fingers. She spread her fingers, closing them again, and balled her hand into a fist.

“Catra...come here. Please?” she said.

Catra looked at her. She looked at this woman. This bastardization of Adora. Some sort of twisted image of her that had taken over her. Her features were too soft, too short, too thin.

Catra’s mouth curled into a snarl. “Leave,” she said.

_ Please don’t go. Please don’t go. _

“Catra?” the woman, glory in her nakedness, held her messed up clothes to her chest. “Are you-”

“ _ Go!” _ she shouted. She hissed and unsheathed her claws.

The woman flinched, eyes snapping clear and wide. They shined and she fumbled to put on her clothes in a hurry.

She couldn’t stand to look at her, look at this horrible image that was some sort of twisted Adora. Some sort of horrible...thing she decided to give in to. Her breaths were coming out ragged and she waited until the woman was out of the room.

Silence enveloped the room again. The lights would soon be going out as lights out slowly came.

Slowly, slowly.

Her fingers were tacky now, thick and sticky despite not being wet anymore. She felt herself shaking, her vision blurring, everything starting to go numb again. Her chest heaved, her eyes darted around the room. She hissed and stormed her way to the sink.

With a swift movement, she shoved her hands into the blisteringly hot water and gritted her teeth as the water burned the sensitive pads on her hands. Tears stung her eyes, her claws fully unsheathed, the room now getting dimmer. She let boiling water from the tap she didn’t remember turning on cascade into her cupped hands and splashed it onto her face. She whined and shut off the water in a hurry. The sink was cold against her hot face pressed against it. She turned her face away, eyes shut.   
  
Persephone’s face kept showing up in her mind’s eye.

The woman’s face, terrified, concerned.

“Damnit!” she slammed a fist down onto the edge of the sink and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were still dilated, blown into black circles. Her chest was shaking, unsteady, back arched. Everything about her screamed tired. The bags and shadows under her eyes were heavier than they were yesterday, having deepened since last night’s nightmare. Each one had gotten steadily worse. Each one more vivid, terrible, horrible.

She turned away from her reflection and walked to her bed. With a swift and easy jump, she landed on the hard surface. She unzipped her bodysuit and stripped, putting on her Horde-issued pajamas with ease. The fabric was cold, like everything else in this fucking room. If she got any warmer, her breath would start fogging up in the air. Maybe she’d start shivering for once in her life.

Everything was too loud, too quiet, too big, too small.

Distant.

She lay back in the bed, not bothering to cover herself in the sheets yet. Her eyes were fixed to the ceiling. The ceiling, unmoving, quiet, cold, dark. Nothing was working.

Nothing was working.

She didn’t even notice the lights go out. Everything seemed…

Distant.

Foggy.

She found herself spacing out, remembering, thinking, wondering, as she moved in slow motion. She pushed her clothes off of the bed, letting them crumple onto the floor. Her eyes lingered on them. The Horde insignia blazed bright against the black background. It mocked her, but she didn’t even care.

How could she?

She lay back again, pulling the covers over her shaking body cold with the finally chilly room.

The room was completely black by the time she started to feel tired.

“Adora…” she said. She tested the name, let it roll off her tongue. She felt the beginning of tears prick at her eyes as she thought of the times when they were still together. Even in the portal reality, it would’ve been Adora here. She would be sleeping with her, at the foot of her bed, while Adora slept under the sheets. She’d be there to comfort her if she woke up screaming. That was her role. Adora would sometimes fight in her sleep, would wake up with a jolt, and Catra would be there to comfort her.

Always there for one another.

Always together.

Why couldn’t it be like that again?

“Because you left me. You abandoned me,” she said, an attempt at a hiss into the darkness of the room.

Behind her eyes, nightmares already started to flash. She heard Persephone’s voice again, calling her name in her passion. She heard Adora’s voice there instead. She heard she heard, she heard…

“Adora…” she said, a whimper. “I love you.”


	2. How it Would Be Here With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's been too much going on, too much happening. She needs another body in her bed and her claws to dig into her head.  
> Anything to make the nightmares go away, to give her something to live for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love shown on my first chapter with the ratio of hits to kudos, y'all! I know people are more hesitant to read unfinished works and smut. Also! This chapter has some dialogue that could be triggering in it. It's pretty obviously emotionally abusive content-wise. There's also sexy times, as one could expect from this fic for now. Ahm so excited to write more of this that I accidentally wrote the next three chapters, plus the ending already. Ahm just writing it all and polishing it with my beta reader. Thanks, FC!

Catra woke up with a start. She clutched the sheets, wet with sweat and heart pounding in her chest. The world blurred, sharpened, relaxed.

Today was a new day.

The clock ticked on, analog, each sound almost grating as she heard its internal workings. Each little grinding of the gears deafening in the silent room.

Still early. The Horde would be awake soon. The action of the day’s activities would be starting in two hours.

Two hours and what? Two hours to sit in bed, staring at the ceiling, begging for sleep and yet dreading every second her eyes closed. She took shaky breaths to try and slow her racing heart. The heat of the dream filled her mind. Every scene, every drop of blood shed, vividly played out in record time through racing thoughts and dirty mind tarnished with the blood on her claws.

She closed her eyes.

She gave in.

And the record started to play again.

-

Catra was running. She was running through a field of flowers full of thorns and berries that would never hurt her. Every step she took, every stride of her lithe and powerful body, left behind a trail of crushed and broken flowers. No thorns, regardless of how much they pricked and clutched onto her with their clingy talons, would hurt her. Yes, they were a nuisance, bothering and slowing her down, but never hurt her.

Powerful.

She stood up, stretching her back and looking at the field in front of her. The field she knew she would own, the one she knew was hers and hers only.

A bang reverberated through the air.

She didn’t even flinch.

Her ears swiveled and she lazily turned to face the sound.

The tanks went through the field. They crushed every shred of life, every flower, every living thing, under their massive treads. They launched blasts that obliterated every inch of the ground.

She stood there.

Yet no smile graced her face, no satisfaction came out of this. She wanted this, right?

As she watched the tanks commit their acts of violence, shred up the land with their treads and set fire to all the beauty and life in this verdant field of vivid technicolor flowers and vibrant berries, she felt no satisfaction. No joy came out of watching these tanks move.

It turned into something else.

In front of her, She-Ra was standing. Her sword drawn, the air around her practically glowing with her sheer and raw  _ power _ . It was blinding, terrible, horrible. Everything about it filled every cell in her body with rage.

She gritted her teeth and dropped onto all fours. With a lunge, she started her run.

She-Ra went further away.

The tanks charged towards this image of who she once loved, who tarnished and destroyed her Adora. The flowers around her were growing again, the grass sprouting.

She raised her sword and, with a sweep of shimmering light, cut the tanks into a mess of broken machinery and destruction. Catra hardly had time to blink.

All she could do was try and run, try and stop her. She was getting further away, her Adora leaving, She-Ra was getting further, she watched, she watched, she watched.

“Stop! Stop it!” she cried out, tearing at the grass desperately underfoot as She-Ra continued to wreak havoc on the Horde. All that she had worked for, all that she had done, destroyed.

And then she turned her attention to Catra.

And the world was getting closer, She-Ra was coming for her, each step bringing her miles closer, it seemed.

Catra couldn’t move now. Something was holding her down, something was keeping her in place. She couldn’t look away from the approaching threat, this warrior goddess covering miles with each step she took.

“Adora, please,” Catra said.

What was she even asking for?

Adora was getting closer now. She could see on her arms veins red as the blood that roared in her ears crisscrossing their surface.

Catra tugged at her restraints, the shadow tendrils keeping her locked in place. “Adora!” she struggled. “Adora! Wait! Stop!”

Adora lifted her sword, her red eyes gleaming dangerously empty.

The world went silent.

The sword came down.

Catra screamed.

She convulsed as the sword kept coming down on her, each strike gashing open her body. She couldn’t move, couldn’t dodge. All she could do was stay in place as blow after fatal blow was delivered.

“Useless! Worthless piece of garbage,” Adora spat at her as she slashed with her sword. She kicked the helpless cat with a strong kick that had her gag onto the perfect, pristine field. “I never loved you! I never will love you. Nobody will ever love such a useless pile of shit,” she said.

Darkness and death wasn’t coming for her until she twitched, looking up at Adora.

Adora looked at her with a twisted grimace on her She-Ra face.

“Adora…please,” she said, weakly, smelling blood. Her vision was fading but she still saw the sword come down.

-

“Stop!” Catra shouted as she jerked in her bed. Her chest heaved with every breath and she felt the beginnings of tears pricking her eyes.

The world blurred, her chest kept heaving.

She desperately felt herself, making sure her limbs were still intact and that she was still alive. Her heart pounded in her chest and she shook. It reminded her of when she was dunked into a pool of freezing cold water, Shadow Weaver goading her on to swim.

Her breaths came out shallow as the dream kept playing. She couldn’t move. She flexed her hands, curled her fingers, trying to console herself, remind herself somehow that she was still here.

All she could feel was the sword coming down on her, each slash crippling and destroying.

She curled up, body shaking as she held her head with unsheathed claws and flexed fingers, flinching at every single click and pop of distant machinery.

“Adora…” she whimpered, holding herself now. “Adora, I’m sorry. Please...come back…”

Her cries went unheard beneath the blare of the morning alarm that reverberated through the speakers in the distant barracks.

“Fuck-“ she shot up. The room was cold against her fur and she curled up, holding her legs.

No. No, she was Catra. C’yra. She didn’t know her last name, never had one.

_ “Catra Applesauce Meowmeow!” Adora said proudly. She smiled wide and crossed her arms. _

_ “That’s terrible! I’m calling you Adora…” Catra looked around, trying to find something to name her after. _

_ Spotted! _

_ “Adora Rations Idiot,” she said. _

_ Adora frowned, “No! It can’t be that!” _

_ “Uh, it is now!” _

_ “No! I mean- my name has to be Adora Rations Meowmeow! We’re going to marry each other, remember?” _

_ “Well we’re not married now,” Catra said. She shifted herself on the floor and held the crayon between chubby fingers. “So your last name is still Idiot.” _

_ Adora huffed and looked away, staying silent. _

_ Catra rolled her eyes and looked at their drawings on the wall. _

_ Adora was still quiet. _

_ “Seriously? Fine! I’ll be Idiot then,” Catra said. _

_ Adora shook her head, “We’re the Meowmeows, not the Idiots.” _

_ “Okay, geez. We’re the Meowmeows,” Catra said. She reached forward and scribbled their names onto the wall. She leaned back and they admired her handiwork. The letters looked very read-able and very clear. _

_ Perfect. Just like she always wanted to be. _

_ “It just sounds good,” Adora said. _

_ “Says you.” _

She’d have to get up soon.

She let herself indulge in the memory, feeling some shred of love and adoration for the silly little kid Adora was at the time. With her little gap in her teeth, the sparkle of those big eyes, her chubby little fingers. She wanted to protect and love the Adora of her childhood, hold her and teach her not to leave her best friends.

The one she promised she never would.

Catra felt the beginnings of a flame and rolled out of bed, accidentally crushing her tail painfully in the process. She hardly winced and grabbed her clothes. She gave the bodysuit a hard sniff to make sure it was still clean enough.

It would work.

She looked at herself in the mirror, her tired and hunched over self. Herself with her eyes alive with something resembling tired rage with a failing vessel ready to collapse at any moment.

“Ready for duty,” she said sarcastically as she washed her hands and started for the door.

-

Today, she would be in charge of planning their next raid on another heavily armored town.

_ Civilian town. _

She would get to prove herself, get to show just how capable she was. At that thought, she opened up the communication pad and tapped through its settings. She just had to contact Hordak, who refused to let anyone come into his sanctum today. Even she, Catra, second-in-command, arguably the second most important person in this damn place, wasn’t allowed.

Entrapta would’ve been, though.

At that, she noticed she’d been crushing the communication pad a little bit, the screen straining under her claws. She relaxed her grip and brought up his name on the screen. She waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Nothing.

She growled and canceled the call, setting aside the pad and leaned back in her chair. The screens in front of her showed her all the destruction that they were causing, the victories being won in real time. She absentmindedly scrolled through each one, checking the screens for any sign of anybody real.

Specifically Scorpia, or Adora, or any of her fucking friends.

Her attention drew harder as she noticed a pair of soldiers talking to one another in the corner, one obviously flirting with the other. She hissed and shifted the screen, her thoughts suddenly consumed with the past three flings she had fucked in the last, what, week? Moons, she didn’t even know anymore.

The sound of a crash outside of the structure caught her attention and she looked out the window.

Someone had knocked over one of the crates holding the ration bars for the month, scattering them everywhere.

She growled and shot out of her chair, storming out of the building.

“You!” she shouted at the unsuspecting soldier that jumped at her voice. “Come here.”

The soldier looked over at her friends, fear tracing her features as she walked over as quickly as she could. “Commander Catra,” she said, saluting.

Catra held a salute, dropped it, the soldier following her cue. She nodded at the spilled ration bars. “You’re in charge of cleaning those up and putting them back where they were,” she eyed the soldier, narrowed her eyes, and looked back at her face, “and see me after you’re done. I’ll be in my room.”

The soldier looked genuinely uncomfortable and seemed to hesitate, “But-”

“Is there a problem?”

“No, Commander,” the soldier said. She walked off, making her way to the ration bars.

Catra didn’t hear her clearly, but she seemed to be apologizing to her friends. She also said something that made the others look at Catra, chuckle, and pat her on the shoulders. They seemed to be smiling.

Catra bared a fang and turned around again, making her way back to the structure to watch the screens again. She settled herself in her chair, breaths heavy and quick.

What was she doing?

She glanced at the window towards the soldier cleaning up the spilled ration bars.

She was making her own happiness, that’s what. Nothing to be ashamed of. It was just stress relief. Did anyone even know how hard this was? How hard it was to constantly put on some happy face and-

“Catra.”

She looked up at the screen, Hordak on it. “Hordak.”

“Status report.”

“All is accounted for. Somebody knocked over a crate holding the ration bars. She will be given proper discipline, don’t worry,” she said.

He hummed and looked at something off-screen. “Anything else? Or am I wasting my time?”

“The town of Thaymor is still under our control. Otherwise, nothing out of the ordinary,” she said.

“Good. I have an assignment for you, Catra. Only if you want it,” he said.

Catra resisted the urge to perk her ears, refusing to show anything other than anger. “I’m listening.”

“You are to organize an attack against Bright Moon.”

“Bright Moon? The heavily guarded castle?”

“Yes. However necessary, weaken their defenses. Do not disappoint me. Then again,” he smiled, “you never have.”

The flutter in her chest at the praise was almost painful. “Of course, Lord Hordak. I won’t let you down.”

He signed off, his image disappearing from the screen.

She eyed the window again. The soldier was still working on the ration bars. She was eyeing each one and placing them into the crate with organized grace.

Catra watched her for a while, leaning in her chair.

Oh, the things she’d do tonight. The fun she’d have.

“What makes you tick, I wonder...” she mused, eyeing the soldier as she paused and looked over at Catra. They made eye contact for some time. Catra simply smiled, eyes lidded as she watched the soldier work.

Oh, the fun she’d have tonight.

-

“Amelia,” she said. She read over the soldier’s profile. She seemed like she’d be a decent enough soldier for this mission, maybe.

_ That’s all this was for. I just needed her to come to my room so we can discuss it privately. _

_ That’s it. _

That’s it.

There was a voice at the door.

Catra sighed and stood up, walking to the door to unlock it.

She peered out of it, eyeing the hallway with narrowed eyes.

“Do you know where Commander Catra sleeps?” Amelia was asking somebody. Her helmet was off and her blond hair was showing.

Catra’s breath hitched at how much she actually looked like Adora.

They almost even had the same build. Amelia was just a bit more muscular and had too few scars to be her, though.

Catra smiled.

_ Perfect. _

“Her bedroom’s just down the hall. Fourth one on the right with a giant slash mark in the door. Can’t miss it,” came the gruff voice of a Force Captain she didn’t remember the name of, either.

“Thank you.”

Catra retreated back into her room and stood behind the door.

She waited.

There was a knock and she opened the door. She forgot she was still holding the pad that had her information on it and looked over the blonde in front of her.

“Commander. You called?” she asked. She threw up a salute and held it professionally.

Catra saluted back, then dropped it, Amelia following after. “Yes, I did. Come in,” she said. She stepped aside and watched as Amelia came in. Her eyes lingered on the other woman and she found herself watching her. She traced her shoulders with her eyes, lingering on the strong muscles in her arms and back.

She looked away and shut the door, enveloping the room in darkness.

She turned on the light and sat on the bed. She held the pad in her hands, her tail flicking in a way that was almost a tell for her.

Amelia wouldn’t know it, though.

Maybe.

“I read over your profile. You seem like a-” Catra froze as Amelia almost immediately started to unbuckle her belt. “What are you doing?” she asked, stopping herself from watching as Amelia started to slide out of her pants. They pooled on the ground and she started undoing her jacket.

“Isn’t this what you wanted me in here for?” she asked. “I know your reputation, Catra. I know what you like to do with woman who come into your room alone. I know you,” she said. She slid off her jacket and Catra couldn’t breathe anymore.

“I- I mean…” she said.

_ Yes. Yes, I want this. I want this so bad. Moons, I want to slam her against that wall, finger her until she collapses under my fingers. _

“Isn’t this what you want?” Amelia stepped closer, clad only in her Horde-issued boxers and sports bra.

“Yes, it is,” Catra said.

Amelia sat on her lap, wrapping her arms behind Catra’s neck and holding her hands together. She stared into Catra’s eyes. “You want this, don’t you?” she asked, voice low and sultry.

She hesitated.

“Yes, I do,” she said.

Amelia smiled and leaned in.

Catra had set aside the pad ages ago, though she never remembered doing so. She had her hands at her sides, fingers knotting up the sheets. Her eyes fluttered shut.

“Then why did you hesitate?” Amelia asked, having shifted her path to whisper it into her ear instead.

Catra froze in place. “I-”

“You don’t really want to do this, do you?” Amelia said.

Catra opened her eyes again and Amelia had leaned back. She had taken off her bra and her underwear. Catra gulped and looked away. Amelia held her face and drew her in so their faces were inches apart.

“You want to feel loved, don’t you? You just want,” she trailed a finger down Catra’s keyhole, running a finger through the soft fur on her chest, “to feel important and loved. Like you mean something. Don’t you?”

“Amelia,” Catra whispered, “what are you doing?”

“Just telling you the truth,” she said. She started to grind herself against Catra’s leg. She leaned her face forward and moaned sharply into her ear.

Catra’s breath hitched and she wrapped her arms around the woman with fervor. Her body worked on impulse. It was just following the same routine it had been for the past, what, month now? She bit down on Amelia’s neck, holding her in place as she ran her claws down her back.

Amelia ground herself against her leg again and she bit down on Catra’s shoulder, moving her hands so they pressed against her chest. She shoved her against the bed.

Catra gasped and watched as she moved her hand down Catra’s chest again.

Her silence was almost painful.

“Say my name, beg for me,” Catra said, almost begging.

“And if I don’t?” she asked.

Catra shot her hands forward and swiftly tugged her down so their chests pressed together. She growled into her ear, “Then I’ll teach you what happens when you go against my commands.” She let go when Amelia tensed up, not wanting to make her too scared or uncomfortable.

Amelia hummed and started her path down.

_ Wait. _

Catra’s fingers dug into the sheets as Amelia started going further down. She trailed her hands down her chest and sides. Catra could feel her hands even through her bodysuit and she bucked her hips.

“Needy, are we?” she clutched her hips roughly.

Catra’s claws dug into the sheets, “Fuck-”

“Take this off,” Amelia smiled, “now.”

Catra all but obliged, scrambling to take it off in a flurry.

Amelia was laughing. Laughing at her.

“Shut the fuck up,” Catra said.

Amelia said nothing, only pulling down the bodysuit so it fell to the floor with a soft thump.

Catra’s chest heaved as Amelia went down, further, further. She kept eye contact as she kissed the inside of her thighs.

“Tell me, Catra…” she started, “what it feels like to lose control.”

Her lips touched her and Catra gasped.

Her words reverberated through her mind, through her body, as Amelia went to work. Her tongue doing wonders. How did she learn that? Where did she learn that?

Her fingers knotted and tugged at Amelia’s hair, earning her a moan from the other woman.

Her hips rocked, ground against the woman’s face. She screwed her eyes shut and mewled, gritting her teeth at the disgusting noises she was making. She hated it, hated how Amelia was able to do this to her. How she made her lose herself like she was some fucking toy. Like this was all just some game, another day for her. What kind of sick trick was this?

“Mierda!” she cried, grinding against her again. It built up, it built up higher and higher. She felt herself getting closer, but never able to actually tip over.

How long had it been? How long had they been in this room together?

“Díos de cielo! Fuck!” she looked into the eyes of the other woman and hissed, “Vete a la chingada.”

Amelia smiled and, with a flurry of licks, Catra lost herself.

She gasped and wheezed, trying to catch her breath, bucking and rolling her hips desperately.

“Vete al infierno!” she cried.

Finally, relief.

She crumpled in a heap, a panting, disgusting heap. She whimpered, her tail had been thrashing around, finally relaxing.

The sound of clothes being put on.

Catra looked up through lidded eyes. “Amelia?” she asked, voice small.

“I don’t love you. I never have, never will,” she said. She leaned forward and placed a small kiss on her nose, “And Adora never did, either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was that for fucked up? Anyway, next chapter we get to see Catra going on that very important mission. Whatever will happen? Ah'll give you a hint: twenty people and a force captain get vibe checked and a tank has a Bad Time.  
> Also if my Portuguese or Spanish is inaccurate in any way, please don't hesitate to correct me! Ahm still learning it. Method writing, am I right?  
> Anyway, have a good rest of today!


	3. Low Valleys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of last week, Catra hasn't stopped seeing Amelia everywhere she goes. This has lead to some encouragement of some negative beliefs.  
> Today is the day of the mission to attack Bright Moon's supply camp.  
> Catra breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn okay, here we go again I guess. Thank you all for reading my last couple of chapters! I appreciate it. Anywho, get ready, get set, prepare yourselves for the beauty that is the violence part 1 of this fic haha. Oh, God.

The day had come. Catra ran a clawed hand through her hair, looking at herself in the mirror again to make sure everything was as it should be.

Everything was under control.

She turned around and started for the door again. The events of last week crept up to her, whispering in her ear. Her tail twitched and she growled, unlocking the door and exiting the room. She was greeted by the empty hallway.

Too early for anyone to be walking around.

She couldn’t sleep though. When could she ever?

She dropped onto all fours and ran through the hallway, footsteps thudding and echoing against the empty walls. She skidded and went off to the right. Entering through a door, she came into the kitchen.

She stood back up onto her legs and lazily walked in. She just needed a snack, something to pick her up before she’d go back to sleep and wake up in…

She eyed the clock.

6 hours.

The kitchen was empty. She had the entire place memorized, though, from her days in the past of raiding the kitchen for food.

She ransacked the fridges, taking out various foods and shutting the door softly behind her.

She started her run to her room again, feet hitting the floor with soft thuds that echoed through the halls.

There, her room.

She eyed the door for a moment, taking it in.

There was a large, heavy gash in the metal, four perfectly long and jagged claw marks that covered nearly the entire thing. She remembered making them. She had been stressed that day and scratched the door because it wasn’t opening right.

She huffed and opened the door, tapping in her passcode with a clawed finger and slipped into her room with a silent thud of the doors behind her. She locked it behind her and crouched onto the floor next to her bed.

Her room was devoid of anything. There was the bed, the mirror, the sink, the basic features of one’s private room given your status. Hers happened to have access to a small window outside.

While she ate some cold steak as fast as possible, she eyed the moons outside. They hovered in the starless sky. Adora had always talked about the stars, or at least what they could’ve been.

She felt a ghost of a touch against her cheek and pictured her freckles scattered across them.

She sighed and returned to eating again. Each bite was tasteless despite how flavorful each bite was. The steak, in theory, should’ve been good. It was already cooked, thank the moons, but still. It could’ve at least  _ tried  _ to taste good, you know?

She started her next attack on the soup, still cold, as everything was. Thick and creamy and moons’ light it tasted like fucking dirt and cardboard.

There was a sound outside her window and she jerked her head to face it. Mouth paused in its eating, she stared out it.

She swallowed her bite and, in the softest voice she could muster, asked the darkness, “Adora?”

Laughter.

She shot to her feet. “Adora! You came back! I knew you-“ she looked out the window, seeing only the twenty-foot drop to the bottom of the next floor down.

She growled and turned away from the window.

Appetite suddenly gone, she smuggled the rest of the cold food into the drawer of her dresser and stripped to her undergarments again. She lay in bed, eyeing her bodysuit.

She’d have to clean it sometime.

She sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose.

_ Dear moons. Is that coming from me? _

She sniffed her arm experimentally and hissed.

Definitely was.

She grumbled and rolled over in bed.

Tomorrow, when it was morning again, she’d shower. It would have to do.

She shut her eyes, exhaustion creeping in.

Sometimes that meant her nightmares wouldn’t plague her. She’d find out soon, wouldn’t she?

She would, soon enough.

-

Adora and Catra were running through the halls. Catra bounded beside her as they ran around.

“You’re going so slow! Can’t you go faster?” Catra asked with a groan. She had slowed down to a semi-trot on all fours, smiling at the other child who was panting as she ran at what seemed like max exertion.

“I totally could! I just...gotta...push...harder,” Adora said between wheezes.

“Run on your hands too! It’s more comfortable!” Catra said. She watched as Adora dropped to all fours and almost immediately collapsed into a heap. “Woah. You okay?” she asked, stopping. She sat down next to her and sniffed her unmoving body. “Are you dead?”

“No. Just tired,” Adora said, words muffled by the floor.

“Slowpoke. Come on, get up. Try it on your hands and feet this time!” Catra demonstrated by easily walking around on all fours. Her legs were bent almost to the ground and her spine was parallel to the floor. “See! Not hard. You try!”

Adora groaned and pushed herself up. She got onto all fours and good moons her posture was  _ terrible _ .

Catra shook her head and showed her, “No! You’re doing it wrong! See just- bend your knees like this.” She showed her again and walked forward and turned around. “Like that.”

Adora tried to adjust herself and her posture looked better that time. She was shaking in the legs. “Ow, my legs hurt.”

“That’s ‘cause you haven’t been doing it long enough! Just keep-“

Adora collapsed again and groaned into the floor. “I can’t do it...”

“Yes you can! Just keep-“

Adora was starting to cry, “ _ Catra! I can’t do it! _ “ She was sobbing now, having rolled onto her side and clutching her knees.

“No, no! It’s okay! You don’t have to do it. You can walk on your legs, it’s okay,” Catra said. She lay down on the floor next to her and snuggled up so her head was pressed against her chest, exposing her mane of hair to her.

Adora softly started to scritch her head, sobbing and sniffling into her mane. She cuddled with her head and continued to cry with shaky breaths.

Catra started to purr, eyes shutting at the scritches. She pushed her head into Adora’s hands and rubbed her cheek against her jaw.

“You got spit on me, Catra,” Adora said, voice wavering but she could hear her smiling.

Catra paused, then proceeded to do it again, harder, so that Adora’s jaw was covered in spit.

_ My friend! Nobody else’s friend! My Adora! My Adora! My Adora! _

Adora was giggling and roughly scratched Catra’s mane.

Catra rolled around, purrs growing louder. She was purring hard enough to make tiny trills with it, eyes shut and body swaying a bit. Her tail thrashed a little bit as it started to get a bit much.

Adora stopped.

Catra kept purring. “Why’d you stop?” she asked, cracking open an eye to look at the snot-covered Adora.

“Your tail was going whoosh-whoosh in the air and I didn’t want you to bite or scratch me again,” she said.

Catra shrugged, “Yeah, okay.” She got to her feet, rubbing the paw pads on her hands. The pads on them were cracking a little bit and stung.

“Oh. Does that hurt?” Adora asked.

“Yeah...” Catra mumbled.

“It’s okay. I’ll get you some medicine for it!” Adora wiped her snot and the scene got a bit darker.

The lights were starting to dim and Adora’s voice echoed.

“I’ll be right back!”

“Adora?” Catra called as she started to run off.

“Right back...” her voice echoed, continuing to ricochet off of the empty hall’s walls.

“Adora! Wait!” Catra called, suddenly growing taller with each step as Adora disappeared into the darkness. “Adora! Come back!” She kept running down the hall, watching as it got longer and longer. It never stopped extending, Adora’s distant figure seemingly hidden in the shadows getting further from her. “Adora!” she cried out.

Fear laced her chest, her body shook.

She was abandoning her, leaving her behind just like everyone else did. Just like she always would.

Catra fell to her knees, older, her body covered in scars from Shadow Weaver’s training over the years. She held her arms tight enough to leave angry imprints that lingered on her skin. She shook as the room got colder and colder, darker, then lighter.

Lighter, lighter.

Screaming.

Catra started to scream, joining the cries of whoever else was screaming in the dream with her.

-

She woke up to the sound of sirens.

“Fire in wing A-14! All units in A-14 evacuate immediately! Fire in wing A-14!” came a voice over the speaker.

She pressed her face into the pillow and groaned. She wasn’t in that unit, thank the moons.

What dumbass started a fire?

Catra looked at the clock and sighed.

Two more hours until the day would start. Knowing the alarms, though, that’s more like right about now.

She lay on her back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The voice over the speaker continued to blare and she listened to it until it became an empty drone. It stopped at last and she got up. She put on her bodysuit, dirty as it was, and grabbed some fresh pajamas.

She’d ask for a new uniform after she was done.

-

She turned on the water and gave herself a rinse. Holding the soap in her hand, she frantically scrubbed all her creases as fast as she possibly could. She put the soap away and cleaned her hair as fast as she could, turning on the water again to rinse herself off. In less than three minutes, it was done.

She shook herself out, mane poofing up a bit. She grabbed her towel and dried herself off as fast as she could, not wanting to waste any more time in this humid and wet room if she could.

Besides, the sandals were bothering her.

She left the room dressed in clean pajamas and went back to her room again. She waited in the cold room, watching the time as she waited for her clothes to finish being cleaned. With a huff, she lay back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

The room stank of sex and her own body odor.

She eyed the window, feeling everything start to hit again.

What Amelia had said to her…

She remembered passing by her in the hall. Whenever she was with her friends, she only looked at her with glimmering eyes.

But when they were alone…

She shut her eyes and tried to force her last interaction with her out of her head.

It didn’t help.

The voice droned on.

-

_ “Hey, kitty,” Amelia said. She had on a wicked smile. _

_ “What do you want?” Catra asked. She narrowed her eyes and snarled. “Another round or something?” _

_ She laughed and shook her head. “Oh, kitty. You’re a mess. You really do need to work on yourself. Maybe after this mission you’ll finally feel important,” Amelia looked at her, “maybe you’ll feel special.” _

_ Catra growled and lunged for her. Amelia grabbed her by the wrist and smiled. _

_ “Maybe you should go to sleep. You know that everyone’s whispering about your eyebags. Also...” she looked at her hair and gently tucked a stray strand behind her jaw, “you really should smooth your hair down again. It’s getting a bit too wild.” _

_ Catra froze as Amelia let her go and walked off with a wave. She stood there, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. _

_ Why was this bothering her so much? _

_ Why did she want to tell her she loved her? Would that make her stay? _

-

Catra felt tears run down her face and spun around so she planted her face into the pillow. She groaned into it and sat back up. Her hair had left a water stain on the pillow and she shook her head out again. It was starting to dry a bit but was still fairly wet as of right now.

She stood up and walked to the mirror.

Its surface was marred by tiny scratches, handprints, what looked like droplets of water or soap or something else on it. She eyed the clock again.

Her clothes were probably clean by now.

The day was starting.

Her hair was drying.

She looked at her reflection, smoothed her hair down, and hissed at it. “Cabrón.”

-

The day started with her heart beating quick in her chest as she rode the tank to the supply loading site of Bright Moon.

They’d chosen a time when their defenses were at their lowest. All their energy and attention was diverted and focused on an internal conflict about some massive superweapon that she’d heard from the vine.

The moons were out, faintly dimming the land in darkness as she advanced towards the supplies. Nobody was guarding it, strangely enough.

Not strangely, actually. It was fairly common for them, with such a large kingdom, to leave so few guards and proper defenses to protect their supplies and land. Besides, they were a bit busy with the second fleet going for the castle to distract them anyway.

“Commander Catra,” came a voice from her badge.

“What is it?” Catra asked, watching as the tanks started to make their descent towards the hill where the supply camp hid nestled between the valley.

“There’s a bit of a problem with one of the tanks. We need to turn back and do repairs,” they said.

Catra eyed the supplies. Her breathing was faster. She was so close. Did they really think she’d turn back and retreat just for one tank? So many soldiers were fighting over in Bright Moon’s territory. “Can’t you stop and fix it yourself?” she asked, voice getting slightly clipped.

“We’re unit 16.”

_ Shit. How did she not notice that the vital fucking unit was damaged? _

“Case still stands. You can fix it yourself while we advance,” she said, gritting her teeth.

“We have to turn back.”

“Are you questioning my orders?” she asked.

Silence.

“Well?”

Silence.

Catra felt fury rise into her. She hadn’t slept right for weeks, she was so fucking tired of this. How did she not realize she fucking failed? What in the moons was wrong with her?

“Commander?”

“Keep going! We’re almost there!” she said.

She watched the tank ahead of her, Unit 16. It seemed to stutter a bit in place, shifting around. Its tread was worn a bit and it looked like it was leaking oil.

How could she possibly be such a fucking idiot? She couldn’t turn back. She couldn’t turn back now. No. No, she had to keep going. People were dying, people were depending on her. She had to keep going.

They were so close.

The tank stopped in place with a loud crash.

Catra jerked forward as her tank slammed into the one in front of her. Her head slammed against the console and she hissed, rubbing it.

“Unit 16! Re-“

A blast reverberated through the air. She scampered out of the tank, lifting up the hatch.

In front of her, the tank had failed, the heat of the engine having ignited the fuel and blown it up.

Next to it, the other tanks were starting to fail, too.

“Get out of there!” she cried into her radio.

Hatches opened, people’s hands and heads emerging.

Smoking from nearby tanks.

Failing.

The valley around them was too steep and the tanks kept rolling, taking everyone inside with it.

“Get out of there! Now!”

Nobody was moving fast enough. She ripped out the soldier driving her tank and tossed her aside and out of harm’s way. She sprung to the nearest one, ready to rip them out too.

When she opened the hatch, a cloud of black smoke billowed out, choking her senses.

Fire, heat.

She coughed and turned away, trying to get off of it before anything else could happen.

Nothing worked.

Nothing was working.

Soldiers, good ones, were screaming and crying out as they burned alive and their tanks quickly started to fail. They kept barrelling towards the supply camp, taking the soldiers who couldn’t escape in time with them.

Catra leaped out, making sure everyone who did make it out alive got out of the way before they could get run over.

She dodged frantically out of the way of several tanks that came rolling unpredictably down the hillside. Everything smelled of smoke and burned flesh, the screams of soldiers echoed almost soundlessly in her ears. Sounds of singeing metals and sickening smells, almost sweet, masked and yet detectable under the smells of flesh and death that filled her nose.

She gagged and ran off.

Once she was safely out of the danger zone, she shouted an, “Everyone to me!”

Soldiers who had escaped from the mayhem crowded around her.

“Role call!” she shouted, trying to hide the anger in her voice at her own incompetence, the one that got so many fucking soldiers killed.

There was a force captain in there, wasn’t there?

“Fuck.”

She barely heard everyone calling their name, had to keep her voice from shaking, had to stop herself.

The sounds of approaching footsteps, heavy and animalistic.

“Hide!”

She saw them all scatter, all hiding away.

Then she heard more screaming.

The world was spinning around her as she hid in the brush of the Whispering Woods. She heard the sounds of animals screeching and whooping with their kills, the sound of destruction happening.

This was all her fault.

She had failed.

And she got everybody killed in the process.

-

She started her trek on foot back to the Horde after she knew it was all clear. Her hands had been burnt by the hatch, too hot from the internal flames cooking those inside of it; her body mangled and bruised and scratched both from tree branches. thorns, and the effort of running back to the base.

Failure, failure, failure.

The tears came again as she covered little distance over time.

She didn’t know how long she had been walking until she finally collapsed in the woods, tired, spent, exhausted.

The world blurred and spun, the moons shining overhead as she lay in the dirt. Her eyes shut, her chest heaved, and sleep took her with clawed fingers.

She woke up from a dreamless sleep to the sound of a crash nearby.

She tensed up, frozen in place, listening.

More crackling, snapping.

Footsteps heavy and thick.

She stilled her breathing, keeping her cool in active combat.

She unsheathed her claws and got up on shaky knees, crawling behind a tree. She pressed her back against it and glanced around it.

An animal, some sort of giant...bug-eyed creature.

It reminded her of the one that chased her in the temple with Adora.

_ Adora. _

She growled, alerting the animal, who shrieked in alarm and charged her.

She was too tired, too hurt, she wouldn’t win this time.

She ran off, climbing the tree and hopping between them until she was away from the creature.

She looked back, breaths shallow and shaky.

It had vanished.

She hissed and climbed back down, making her way to the Horde that she could see billowing smoke in the distance.

Failure.

She had failed.

Nobody had tried to contact her yet, but she did send out a distress signal with a push of her badge. Exhausted again at the edge of the woods, she collapsed into a heap of soaked skin and clumped fur.

Her whole body hurt and by the moons…

_ I almost died. _

She realized that now. Looking back, she had almost died. She’d willingly got out of the tank and launched herself like a fucking dumbass at a blazing tank billowing with smoke. She’d almost been run over twice.

“I almost died,” she said.

The sound of a skiff was coming, but she blacked out from exhaustion before she could see who was on it.

-

She woke up in an isolation room, a jail cell. She looked at the cuffs on her hands, tugged a bit on them before wincing at the pain of her tired joints.

“¡Mierda!” she shouted into the cell. She kicked the wall and lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

Waiting for her trial.

Waiting to see what Hordak would do to her.

-

The days seemed to pass so slowly as she lay inside of the cell. She scratched a line into the wall, marking the fourth day.

She sat, holding her legs and stared at the wall.  
  
_ I almost died. I killed dozens of people, good people, good soldiers.  
_ _   
_ She thought this to herself, an empty drone, until someone stopped by with food for her.

She twitched an ear and looked up. In the darkness of the main room, she couldn’t see exactly who it was that was serving her food.

Nor did she really want to.

“Hey, Catra,”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh, it’s you. What? Come to berate me some more? Fuck me senseless while I’m all tied up like this?”

Amelia laughed, a solid one that sounded so weird coming from her. She was so...nervous at first. What changed? “Maybe later. Right now I’m giving you food,” she dropped it with a clatter, “there you go. Eat up, Kitty.”

She didn’t walk away.

“What?”   
  
“I want to make sure you eat.”

Catra sighed and scooted over, grabbing the tray and bringing it close to her. She started for the meat slop first, eating it quickly and intensely uncomfortably under Amelia’s stare.

“There. I’m eating. Can you leave now?” she asked, not hiding the hostility in her voice.   
  
“Not yet. Keep going.”   
  
“For fucks sake,” she leaned back and ate the rest of the food in silence, looking away from the woman who just...stood there. Her arms weren’t crossed, she didn’t look bored. She just stood there.

If anything, her body posture seemed interested.

“Okay. I’m done. Can you leave?” Catra asked.

“What? Don’t want company?”   
_  
Oh for the skies- _ _   
_   
“Not from you.”

Catra saw her shrug and she walked off, grabbing the tray loudly. “Suit yourself, Kitty.”

The cell was quieter without her and she found herself almost missing her.

Not almost. She  _ did _ miss her.   
  
She sighed and bumped her head gently on the wall, pressing the back of it against the smooth, unrelenting metal. The sounds of the Horde’s mechanical workings continued on as she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

She wasn’t tired yet, not even close. All she wanted to do was just...talk. Or look at something more interesting than a wall. Anything, really.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Not here, not now, not ever.

She looked at her hands and flexed them.

As long as she lived, she couldn’t see herself doing anything but hurt others.

Her hand pads were still aching a bit despite having only burnt them four days ago. It felt weird to flex them.

She shut her hands.

She lay back.

She finally went to sleep again.

-

The nightmares didn’t relent, only worsening, as she awaited her trial. Each passing day, Amelia would come to deliver her food, plus other activities they really only cared about. Sometimes, Amelia would actually stay and talk to her. Usually, it consisted of her telling her trivial things about how the sky was stormy and “Isn’t that just what your head’s like? So cloudy and full of anger,” which royally pissed off Catra every time. Why she couldn’t just...not say that was beside her in understanding.

None of it made any sense whatsoever.

One day, though, on the tenth day, Catra got bored, again.

Amelia came into the cell holding the tray of food. It was lighter and she could see her this time. Ten days into her incarceration, she was starting to lose it a bit.

Who wouldn’t?   
  
“Hey, Amelia. Good to see you again,” she said, almost meaning it this time.   
  
“Got your food. Eat up, Kitty. You don’t want me to stick around if you know what’s good for you,” she said. She dropped her food with a clatter that hurt Catra’s ears a little bit.

Catra scooted over and started eating the food. She looked up at Amelia, tail flicking a bit. “Why shouldn’t I want you around?” she asked, “You’re the only person that actually talks to me.”

Amelia was looking through her, eyes slightly glazed over.

After a bit, Catra asked.“Who hurt you?”

Amelia looked at her, eyes still empty but now focused directly on her. It was strange, seeing her sudden transformation. One moment, she was this cocky, overconfident woman that Catra remembered seeing for the past three weeks now. The next moment, she got smaller, crumpled to her knees, and started to just take deep breaths.

Catra sat there awkwardly as Amelia started crying. She didn’t know what to do, really, other than just sit there. She wanted to say something, not quite comfort her though. Something was wrong but she didn’t bother asking her about it.

Amelia looked at her, eyes still empty, leaned forward, and grabbed her by the cheeks, planting a hard kiss on her lips.

Catra tensed up, hands balled into fists at her sides. She waited, moving with the other woman anyway.

She didn’t break the kiss, only deepening it and moving forward to climb next to her. She shoved the tray out of the way and started for her neck.

“Amelia. Why are you doing this?” she asked.   
  
No response, just more crying. She started to suck on her neck, nibbling it in places and lapping it with her tongue.

It felt nice, sure, but why was she doing this?  
  
She raised her hands, placed them on her shoulders, and shoved her away.

A mess of mussed hair and empty eyes, she stared back with heavy breaths. She was looking at Catra’s lips and her hands were flexing a lot.

“Amelia. What’s wrong?”

She didn’t respond, only stared into her eyes. She wiped her own and stood up with the tray in her hands. She left, closing the holographic door and walking off in silence.

-

The trial was tomorrow.

She woke up to the sound of the lift being activated. She turned her head as the soldiers came to grab her.

They grabbed her with rough hands, undoing the cuffs and dragging her towards the throne room where Hordak would be waiting.

As they started going down the many halls and passed doors to the throne room, things felt different.

For starters, everywhere was quiet, devoid of talking or other soldiers interacting with one another. There were no bots patrolling the area, simply vanished from sight.

She heard the sounds of murmuring muffled by thick walls coming from where Hordak’s throne lay. Her stomach tightened into a knot.

The sudden memory of the things she’d done that she had all but shoved ruthlessly from her mind. Repressed it, as they would say.

It was her fault. She knew that. She knew it was her fault. She knew it was her fault that dozens of people died under her claws, that a force captain died, that many more were hurt that she neglected to check up on. Selfishly, she had run off. She never bothered to check after the animals had come to attack to see if there were any survivors.

It was her fault.

The door opened and the crowd of soldiers along the stairs and waiting around fell silent. All eyes were on her.

She swallowed thickly.

And now she was going to pay for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo buddy that was a ride, huh? Anyway, Amelia isn't going to show up anymore in the rest of the fic sorry not sorry- also like- we're vibing here.  
> Also, sorry but DT isn't here because their presence meant a lot of different things change in the show so no DT y'all.  
> Anyhow! What's going to happen to our dear Catra now? Can I ever write anything more than four sentences per paragraph? Am I capable of writing long works? Find out next in chapter 4, Remote Hunger of Droning Things!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this! I really hope you enjoyed it. It was based off of/named after the poem Altitude by Lola Ridge. I thought it fit the theme of the fic well enough. Thank you!
> 
> Catra has issues, this is gonna be so sad, watch me-


End file.
